Everything we are
by silvereyed angel
Summary: The phone drops, he falls to his knees.. She left him, asks him to leave.. but he won't. Damn him for it. Nacy JONAS all time low


**everyone scream: 'omg! she's back... she isn't dead!!!' O_o  
I'm not, I'm just having writers block, no time and I'm changing schools which is somehow making my nerves eat me up. darn it nerves.  
This was also on my chest and I worked really hard on it, it's seriously not funny anymore. For you guys, because I love you... and because you love me too, bare it with me...  
Hope you'll enjoy,**__

"I can not be in love!"

_An abominable kind of purple vase slammed against the wall. It shattered to a thousand pieces and left a dark water-stain on the wall, but I couldn't get myself to care.  
I kicked the coffee table in pure rage and screamed at the top of my lungs, so loud people in massachusetts would probably be able to hear me._

_I couldn't be in love, it was not possible. I, Nicholas Jerry Lucas was N O T in love! Not with her. Not with those beautiful eyes, not with her laugh, not her humour. I wasn't in love. I downright denied it._

_I stumbled and hopped towards my bed, now with an aching heart and an aching toe.  
I let myself fall down the 2 feet that was my bed and buried my face in the pillows. To someone I didn't know I, still in my tee and boxers, would look soundly asleep, but on the inside, I was far from calm and sound. _

_I groaned in my pillow in frustration when I heard Kevin walk into the room.  
_

_"Dude! Are you...? What happened in here!?" He all but yelled, while I tried to tune him out by putting both my pillows, the stuffed penguin and my hands ontop of my head. Couldn't he see that I was drowning here? Couldn't he feel the burning of my heart?_

_This horrible aching thing inside my chest, how do people live with this? Do they fight it? Do they accept it? do they act like I do when I have a thing for a girl?_

_  
Because this wasn't the usual feeling... This hurt too much to be love!  
Hadn't I had been in love before? a few times? maybe more... But how...  
_

_"Nick! I'm talking to you!" Kevin shouted into my right ear. "What did you do? Mom's going to kill you!"_

_"Get in line!" I huffed, turning around to look up to my older brother, who had an almost comical confused expression on his face._

_"With who?"_

_"My heart, myself, karma, the coffee-table..."  
_

_"Are you in love...?" He asked and I could almost hear the 'again' he was adding in his head as he sat down on the side of my bed, which placed him a few feet higher from where I was miserably lying.  
_

_"No, a feeling like this, a feeling like drowning, can't possibly be called love." I sighed. Tugging on my hair. _

_He raised an eyebrow. "ah-ah." He hummed, curiously exploring the lines of my probably really annoyed face with his eyes. A pre-smile on his face._

_"Drowning in love?" He asked. "Sure... Rather drowning in denial! A really large river of denial."_

_"I'm not in love, okay? I just have the flu or something!" I said. Finally sitting up and trying to look as glum as I could._

_"Nick." He started, in a voice I knew all too well. "I know you. I have known you for over 16 years. I can tell wether you're in love or not."_

_Okay, fine, maybe I was in love. Since I kept dreaming about eyes and lips and laughs. Since only amazing love-songs had flown out of my fingers the last couple of days, I would admit it. I was in love. Darn it...  
_

_"But I've never been this way. How can _you _recognise it if _I _have never been in love this way?" I asked him, crossing my arms._

_"Because I've been through it." Kevin calmly answered. "Love hurts, a lot, especially when you're in denial. I can see it in your eyes, your way of moving, your whole attitude. Bro, you're as in love as you possibly could be. Honest love, this time."_

_I let myself fall back into the pillows and forced myself to accept that fact, reluctantly._

_She was amazing, I was convinced. She haunted my dreams, inspired my songs, that's a for certain. She made my stomach do all this incredibly painful and amazing backflips, that's a fact. She hurt me, phisically, many times before. But that was nothing compared to what I felt now! Like my heart was on fire.  
I could watch her four hours, how she moved and laughed. I could listen to her forever, how she went on about how her favourite colour was purple, or how she buried the enemy-team in her last volleyball-game during lunch, where we always sat together. I could be with her until the end of times and not get bored._

_I was in love. Oh dear mother of Mike I was in love._

_\_

_Then, the burning stopped and the previous fire floaded through my veins and turned my head into an air-balloon._

_"I'm in love." I marvelled. Staring at Kevin's face with what was probably a very dumb smile, so not my usual style, and he smiled back. _

_Kevin patted me, rather hard, on my shoulder. "That you are, Nick. That you are. Now go clean up, or mom's going to kill you for sure."  
_

_I looked at the partly distroyed room; Scattered papers all over the floor, not one chair standing where it was supposed to be, the broken vase on the ground, the water stain on the wall, the vague image of my fist a few feet next to it. All sorts of things lying on the ground, some broken. How had I possibly managed to do this?_

_"God, I'm in trouble." _

_"That you are Nick, that you are."_

Here I was, on the streets, just a few feet away of where her feet had touched the ground only a few minutes ago. She left me. After all we went through, after all we did.  
She left me.

I wasn't sure if I deserved it. I wasn't sure what I had done. I definately hadn't seen it coming, I wasn't sure if I cared why. I just knew that I, once again, was plagued by an aching heart.

An empty aching heart this time.

I could basically see the outline of her, like those chalk lines on police scenes. I could see her features, clear and white. The emptyness on her face. Nothing in her eyes that previously had held so much love, adoration. Or maybe that had been my ego running wild. 

I walked back, stumbled backwards until my back touched the brick wall, getting stains on my white shirt. My mouth open in a silent scream.  
Then I worked myself forward, away from this place, stumbling away from any feeling and I did what I had sworn never to do; I sat down on a stool in some place, only so many feet away from the scene of the crime. A place I didn't recognise and didn't wanted to recognise, I didn't want to recognise anything but her eyes, her empty brown eyes.  
A shadow covered my face as I asked for a tequila shot. The thing I heard worked the quickest and the hardest.

I didn't care.

The only thing I knew is that I never ever wanted to see daylight again, I just wanted to sit here and sulk, becase I lost her. I gave up wondering what I had done to deserve this.

I give up. Everything. I don't care anymore.

I'm giving up. for you.__

--

_The phone clattered to the ground. My hand letting go of it, because there was no power, no love, no strength, left in my hand to hold on to it._

I felt my body fall backwards, almost in slow motion, and hit the ground. But I didn't really feel it. I only felt her words, and I saw; that very first day we told everyone.

I took a deep breath, because I knew what was to come. Pestering brothers, cooing mothers, 'I always knew it' smiling fathers and Stella... I was nervous.

A small, tanned hand was suddenly slipped into mine, a perfect fit, and squeezed it a little. I grasped back and looked towards the brown eyes that had been in my thoughts for the past couple of weeks. The amount of time I had waited, to make sure I really did love her, caring enough to make sure I wouldn't break her heart.  
" 's going to be okay, it's just your parents and your awesome brothers!" She smiled.

"That's the problem." I sighed again. It took a lot to take her home, but because of that same fact, I could live through it.  
_Just bring it to them slowly, _I told myself,_ maybe they'll react slowly. Just calmly, yet firmly tell them.  
_She was here with me, it was okay.

Suddenly, she got impatient and started pulling me into the house. Reminding me once again of how strong she actually was.

Inside the house we found everyone in the same room. Luckily, because I was sure I couldn't tell the story twice. But I had my plans set in stone, I just had to act cool and obviously, I'm a pro at acting relaxed and uncaring.

Kevin was playing his guitar. Not good. He might hit me with it, maybe not that hard, but it was still a threat. He and Macy were really close. Maybe if I took it to get his attention and sneakily put it away, he wouldn't think of reaching for it, being the soft, harmless person he is.

Joe and Stella were seated together on the couch, watching a TV show about fashion they both liked. That was a good thing, Joe would be able to hold the blonde back. Whether it was for happy-dancing around with her best friend or treatening me not to hurt said best friend. I was kind of scared of her manicured nails and her ability to publicly humiliate me. Fashion-victim style...

Mom was cooking. Good, if she was holding something, she wouldn't be able to hug/squish me. Cooing however, was probably unavoidable. I just had to bring it slowly, maybe she would just go 'aww'.

Dad, well, his smug smile was unavoidable too. Though maybe with a soft glare in his direction I would be able to...

"Nick and I are dating." She squeeled, her eyes shining and her small form dancing up and down. Kevin suddenly grasping his guitar rather tightly as he looked up.  
I paled and then stared down at the bouncing ball of energy in horror. For once not caring about the different shaded brown locks.  
Did she want me to die? Did she _have_ to ruin the plans, my so carefully, set in stone, plans?

A loud bang came from the kitchen as mom dropped the, according to my brothers, cursed colander and squeeled.  
Another squeal joined hers as Stella bolted for her best friend. Joe, because of the shock wasn't able to catch her, though he shot me an apologetic and kind of smug smile. The same smug smile as my dad was now supporting.  
I groaned as their similiar 'I knew it!' smiles grew.

A hard object hit my arm, not hard, but enough to ache and Kevin's voice hissed. "Just make her happy bro, make her happy."

"I will." I sighed. "That I'm sure of." because even though she made up her own plans, messed up mine and actually approved of me being dressed up by Stella, she was still beautiful and the unpredictable things were just something that intruged me more.  
I smiled, once again and probably for the hundredth time today, watching her dance and hugging everyone, for everyone knew how important we were to each other.

Then, the hugs reached me and things turned kind of black.

_Right now, I wasn't sure of anything. My phone lying shattered on the ground. Her voice saying: "I'm sorry, Nick. I'm just over you. We don't work. Can we just be friends, or rockstar and fan? I just can't do this." was repeating in my head over and over and over again._

Now, after all those happy memories, I was alone. After one stupid call, I end op alone. Like I always end up alone.

--  
I was sitting behind my writing-desk. Staring at the keys of my piano. Thinking of subjects for songs, new chords, new melodies, but they didn't came.

My mind wandered off. To one of our last concerts, one of Macy's first concerts as our friend, as my girlfriend. One of the last concerts before we had to do all this work for the label.

I looked at the papers all around me. Scattered around like that day I realised I fell in love with her.

Backstage with her had been so much fun, she helped us in the changing-breaks and we had been laughing and joking before, during and after the concert, I had never played better in my life. Everything was perfect. She was a lucky-charm. To me she was.

Stella had dressed her beautifully, in her electric indigo dress, naturally and tipically Stella, she looked stunning. As did I, for the concert. The picture of us together was standing proudly on top of my writing desk, as was one of Joe and Stella and Kevin and Samantha the mime.

She had been so excited to come to our concert, aswell as our fan, friend and the love of my life, though she would've told you different.  
She had been jumping up and down for half an hour straight until Kevin had almost tied her down to a chair, with help from Joe.  
She had been singing along to all our songs from behind the stage. Stella had told me.  
The best part was the last, as she had jumped into my arms, screaming how awesome the concert had been.

It was too bad that I had all this work for the label, we would've been out in the sun right now, playing baseball or volleyball or go swimming. But this had to be done. I had to make sons, but what to do without your inspiration? I had written countless of songs, but Melcolm Meckle wanted something different then just love songs for the album.

Then, the my phone rang. It said 'Macy' and I smiled. She knew exactly when I needed her.  
I picked up. "Hello?"

--

_  
_I refused to believe that this was it, that the love of my life was really gone, that she was _over me..._

After the shock came the anger and I almost went to destroy the room again, but I grabbed my coat and slid down my pole. Forgetting about the shattered phone on the ground and hurrying to our place. Where I knew she would be.

Our alley, the place where we first kissed, the place where we talked for hours, pretending the rest of the world didn't exist, the place where we danced on songs I sang into her ear, in words meant just for her, the place where we were called a pair of streetrats and to 'go live our nightlives' instead of polluting the neighbourhood by a passing by old man. The place where we laughed about things we and our friends did, where we asked each other countless questions (not that she didn't already knew everything about me) and where we sat in silence, her head on my chest or mine on her lap.  
The place even smelled like us, like her light, fresh parfume and what she discribed as my 'natural, rockstar/Jersey-boy smell' of which I still didn't know what it meant.

Naturally, she was there, leaning against the wall with her phone to her chest. On the edge of crying, I could tell.

I opened my mouth to say something, but no words released my lips.  
Then she saw me and hazel found chocolate.

"Why?" I croacked, me myself feeling the tears in my eyes, though I hadn't cried since I was three. Not even when I read 'Alone on the world'. The book she had bawled her eyes out reading it.

Her messy blue top didn't match her shoes, so I figured she hadn't been talking to Stella about this, who thought even during a break up on the phone, you should look great.  
In fact, her pants were ripped and there were bruises underneath her eyes; she had thought about this during the night. Her mouth opened, her beautiful lips parting to speak. But she couldn't find the words either.

"How was I supposed to know that you were o-over me? I though you loved me?" I began, my voice hitching because of the lump in my throat.

"Just go." She told me. "We don't work. I don't love you. I did, b-but n-not anymore."  
Then the tears came, rolling over her cheeks, as I could only stare at her in chock.

"I just want you to go and live your life, I'll tell Stella and Kevin you didn't broke my heart. I'll go back to being your fan. I don't belong... I mean- you don't belong with me."

"What about you breaking my heart. Does that count for something?" I asked her.

"I guess it does. I'm sorry. I didn't meant to hurt you. You weren't supposed to know I was over you. You couldn't know" She answered. "Just leave me now, Nick."

"Macy." I hissed. "Don't do this."

She just looked at me.

"Damn it, Macy! Don't do this to me!" I shouted, desperation embarrassingly evident in my voice, as was the anger I felt. She couldn't do this to me! She couldn't tell me to leave.

"I won't leave you, I won't!" I hissed, tears running over my face.

She just walked past me. Her image still visible behind my eyes.  
Here I was, on the streets, just a few feet away of where her feet had touched the ground. She left me. But I wouldn't leave her. I won't. Damn me for it.

--

the tequila burned it's way through my throat. The pain now slightly numbed, but I could still see her, feel her touch. And I hated it.  
I hated those images, those feelings.  
I hated being alone.  
I hated knowing that she was too.  
I hated the happy memories that had forced themselves into my head.  
I hated dancing in an alley, especially to songs made for her.  
I hated laughing about a streetrat night life.  
I hate that I can't live with a feeling that I'm giving up.  
I hate that it's for her. All because of her.  
I hate that I love her.

--

_I am walking through the hall, guitar swung over my back so the base rests below my shoulders and the neck points down. I hold my bag in my hand in my hand, humming new songs she inspires_

I'm on my way to the gym, because we planned to get ice-cream after school, of course we'll buy a cookiedough with sprinkles for Kevin, after which we'll go watch tonights baseball game.  
I love having a girlfriend that's into sports and secretly, likes the same cotton-candy ice-cream I love so much. Last time, we shared a particularly large bowl. It had been severly warm, for april anyway and we sat in the sunlight, watching the people walk by, everyone holding their coats in their arms, happy it was spring again. Some had looked us and mouthed the words 'young love'. Which of course had inspired me to write a song. I had played it for her by the fountain on that same square we ate our ice-cream. It was such an overly romantic thing, but I can't say I didn't enjoy it.  
Naturally, she had loved the song. I had gotten a kiss for it in return.

I whistle new tunes, not yet knowing the words and not really caring either, while walking past the lockers and towards the large red building.  
I wait in the little hallway in front of the locker-rooms. Getting dreamy looks from passing girls, here and there a hug, mostly a wave from the guys, except for Fred, some a high five and then. She walked out the girls' locker room.  
She was stunning, eyes shining from the obvious intense game of volleyball, her hair damp from the shower, her skin glowing in the sun that shone through the window.

"Wow." I swallowed. Smiling like there was no tomorrow, as my bag fell to the ground. "Y-you look really pretty r-right now Masss... Macy."  
I tripped over the words, trying to discribe how pretty she looked, recieving multiple weird looks, except for Fred who seemed to be cooing at Macy from behind my back, and then, when she kissed my cheek, the ground mysteriously dissapeared from underneath my feet. I fell down, as I seemed to do often lately and something hard hit my head. So strange, because I was normally so perfectly balanced.

When I woke up I was looking into her and Joe's concearned faces.  
"Hey." She whispered.  
"Did you actually faint?" Joe asked.

I groaned and tried to sit up straight, but she eased me back. "Lay down, you hit your head pretty hard."

Joe, now convinced I was ok, had a familiar smug smile on his face. "You actually fainted." He laughed.

"No." I disagreed. "I fell, hit my head and went black."  
"Shortly said, you fainted." Joe gladly informed me.

Why was it that I acted like some random fool when she hung around? I had fainted, for crying out loud. Correction, fell, hit my head and went black.

"Nick." She whispered, the only one, thoughtful enough to regard my massive headache.  
"I have to go, my mom just called. She has a buisiness meeting and is out of town for the weekend, I have to go help her pack and take care of my sister."

I nodded, seeing her sad expression, because her mom had to leave yet again. The shop had originally been her father's, Macy being the one to keep it open. Her mom too busy with her top-agency job.  
" 's cool Mace." I told her, though the fire in my heart suddenly seemed to be burning out. Like a match after you lit the candle and there was nothing left for it to burn for.  
She smiled and kissed my cheek again, this time without me loosing my balance.  
"We'll go get ice-cream tomorrow." I promised her and she smiled.  
"I'll be looking forward to it." She said.  
"Me too."  
"The cotton candy, I mean."  
"Very funny. I love you."  
"I love you more."

"Will you bring me cookiedough?"

--

The thing was. I should've done what I said I was going to.  
The day after the accident, we turned out to have a band-practise for a really big concert my dad had just booked and I didn't have any songs, I had been to busy with, well, Macy. So I had to cancel on her. Multiple times.  
I should've done what I wanted and I should've enjoyed my time with Macy as much as possible. Instead of living days, weeks without her. Practising, writing and working, but having no inspiration.  
It was really depressing, maybe it was too for her, it was like that for her, I'm sure. I left her during a really hard time, when she was all alone.  
Somewhere in that time, she figured out she didn't like me that much, obviously.  
We had seen so less of each other in the last weeks, I regret that. I should've enjoyed it while it lasted, damn the label.

Should I have seen it? Should I have noticed?

I didn't, that is how much she messed with me, she unbalanced me. Normally I noticed everything, but with her, everything was a bliss, though at the same time, I was more aware of everthing then I had ever been before.  
I had seen more of the town, when whe had walked through the streets, two pairs of converse walking on the grey stones.  
I had seen the stars, literally, when we watched them together, laying on the grass on some sort of a hill. It was nice and thanks to my knowledge of the stars, I had been able to point out all the constellations to her. Her head had been in the crook of my neck, our hands entwined.

What had I done wrong? I loved her, in a non-obsessed way, not like I always did with girls.  
It was pure and it just fitted. Right?

I had never promised her that it was going to be easy, I had never promised dating a rockstar was perfect. I had never promised I was perfect, though she was convinced of that at some point.

I had never promised you.  
I couldn't have known that you were over me. Though I should've. It was probably all my fault anyway. I am a horrible boyfriend, I had proven that fact in the past.  
I should've never started this, I should've known it would've ended this way.  
It never took a fool, to see the things that I won't.  
I'm damned whatever I do. I'm damned when I'm with you and frankly, I'm damned without you either way.  
I just hope that you'll be happy. I really do hope so.

I remember when we went to the town's christmas fair. Packed up in our warm and Stella-approved coats. That smile, on that day, when I got you a teddy bear and you got me a penguin (which is still standing in the corner of my bed) that smile is unforgettable.  
We watched over our beloved city in the ferris wheel and after that, you watched me and my brothers perform on the winter-wonderland-stage. We laughed at the name of the poorly decorated stage, but it had been fun. Joe had dedicated a song to Stella. She loved it, but you knew that all my songs were dedicated to you, so you loved it too. Like I loved playing them for you... All the time.

--

_Now I'm here, in some down-town bar. Drinking freaking tequila, thinking about the past, things that are over. I should move on. You don't love me and if you'll be happier through that, then I'm happy too. I'm not a good boyfriend, I know that now. So I'll watch as you find someone better then me.  
You left me and of course I was supposed to know you were over me. How could someone like you fall in love with me? It's almost a crime. A dark scene of a crime.  
I should leave. So I will, if you want me to._

I walk through the streets, kicking pebbles and remembering how she hated it when I did that, because she knew I only did that when I was worrying about something.

Suddenly. Another pebble, this time not from my feet, taps over the street. I try to find its source and see a small figure in the shadows of what I now recognise as the thrift-shop.  
How funny that my feet, of all places bring me here. I welter towards the figure and then see it is Macy.  
I should leave, but I won't.

"It's better this way." I hear her whisper. Her head on her knees, her hair falling over it. "I'm only restraining him."

"He hasn't been writing a single song in the last weeks, I did that. I should be doing this, he's better off without me."

_Next to her is a bottle of tequila, a bottle I recognise to have previously been standing in her fathers drinkinc-cabinet._

"I'm a criminal. I broke his music. I'm a dark scene of a crime. I should just draw a chalk line around him anyway. There hasn't been a number one hit for weeks. I should leave..."

I kick the pebble away and walk closer to the petite figure and slide down next to her.

"but I won't. Cause we're damned anyway." I sigh.

She looks up to me, her eyes light up.

"You didn't break my music, Macy. If you could hear all the songs I wrote, some only about you, others about the things we do. I just chose to keep them for myself, they're my songs, your songs. You're not a criminal, Macy. I am. I should've seen what I was doing..."

Then she put a finger on my lips. "You were stuck, you had to work so hard, you had absolutely no inspiration whatsoever after we started dating. I ruined your circle of falling in love, date, get dumped and get a number one hit. I ruined you. It's not good for you to be with me. I don't belong with you, I don't deserve you. Please just leave." She beys and whispers.

"I never stopped writing, I never stopped loving you, don't ever believe I will not love you." I answered, grasping her ching and forcing her to look at me. "I don't care that I haven't written a number one hit. I do care that I haven't got you. The only reason I didn't write because I wasn't seeing you anymore the last weeks."

The swallowed, almost not allowing herself to believe it.

"Really?"

"Really?"

She kissed me. "Then let us be damned."

**Thank god this one is of my chest, it turned out quite good though naturally it was way cuter in my head and frankly, also shorter.**

I apologise for the horrid grammar and the occ'ness of Nick drinking (because I KNOW he wouldn't)

Now, when you're done reading (and you know you want to) click the little green button and give me some l o v e...  
Then, go listen to make a wave. :)  
With love,  
Silver


End file.
